


Nearing Spring

by courtingstars (FallingSilver)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi Seijuurou/Kuroko Tetsuya Friendship, Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou Friendship, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Implied Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Implied Aomine Daiki/Momoi Satsuki - Freeform, Implied Himuro Tatsuya/Murasakibara Atsushi, Implied Kasamatsu Yukio/Kise Ryouta, Mild Language, Minor Kagami Taiga/Kuroko Tetsuya, Minor Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari, Multi, Multiple Pairings, POV Akashi Seijuurou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingSilver/pseuds/courtingstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During one of their monthly coffee shop hangouts, the Generation of Miracles tease each other about some of their new friends. Akashi can’t help but think that in some cases, they’re talking about more than friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearing Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot takes place two months after my multi-chapter fic, [The Bridges Between Us](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4547418/chapters/10351389). They can be read separately or together. Also, I should mention that many of the ships included in this story are ambiguous. Full notes for this fic can be found on my Tumblr. Enjoy!

Sometimes it was nice, Akashi thought, to have friends who were just as extraordinary as you were.

Other times, it could be awkward.

Outside the windows, the early March weather was dull and gray. But inside a certain coffee shop in downtown Tokyo, every corner shimmered with light and sound. The wood paneling reflected the glow of antique lamps. Nearby, a group of university students gathered on a circle of chairs, engaged in a lively debate. None of these things were quite as bright (or as loud) as the person who currently sat across from Akashi in a booth, however.

“—And he kept telling me, over and over! But I had _no clue_ what he was saying.” Kise waved his hands. “It was something about putting the balls away. But it was so off. It was more like ‘kipuslebaswry.’ I mean, does that sound like anything to you? Does ‘kipuslebalersy’ sound like Kise, put the balls away? Well, does it?!”

He turned to Kuroko, who sat beside him, and tugged repeatedly on his sleeve.

Kuroko blinked as he tried to keep his latte from spilling. “Um… No?”

“You kind of changed it the second time,” Murasakibara said. He was seated on Akashi’s left, and currently eating his way through an entire tea cake.

“That’s not the point!” Kise said. “I’m recreating the scene. Names and faces have been changed to protect the innocent.”

“But you didn’t change the names,” Murasakibara droned, in between bites. “You said it was your new captain. Hanaka or whatever.”

Kise huffed at him. “ _Not_ the _point_ , Murasakibaracchi.”

He launched into another rant, something about people picking on him. (Akashi hadn’t caught if he was referring to the present company, or his current teammates. There was a precedent for either.) Unfortunately, the volume of Kise’s voice was reaching that certain curious level where it managed to sound both nasal and a bit piercing. Akashi glanced around the shop. If the commotion was disturbing any of the other customers, he would have to put a stop to it.

Sure enough, a few customers were eyeing their booth. To Akashi’s surprise, though, they didn’t look annoyed in the least. Instead they smiled, knowingly. They appeared to be regular patrons, judging by their activities. (Most of them had reading materials.) Perhaps they were used to Kise’s chatter. He had, after all, been coming to this shop longer than the rest of the Generation of Miracles.

So Akashi smiled too, and resumed sipping his tea. He usually ordered coffee at places such as this, since his fondness for tea had made him quite particular about it. This cup was pleasant, though. It wasn’t a high-end blend, but those distinctions mattered less when it came to milk tea, he found.

Kise whined on and on, growing ever louder. Something jostled Akashi’s elbow. He looked to his right, only to see Midorima staring at him, with an expression that could best be described as pained. He tipped his head subtly toward Kise. Akashi sensed his longtime friend’s meaning with ease:

_Will you please make him be quiet? He’ll listen, if it’s you._

Akashi chuckled silently. This felt very much like old times, somehow. He eyed Kise and his immediate surroundings, sizing up the situation. Then he turned back to Midorima, and ever so slightly, shook his head.

Midorima glared at him. Once again, Akashi knew exactly what he was saying, without uttering a word. _For the love of god, why not?_

Akashi waited. On the table beside Kise lay what appeared to be a large heap of something, covered with a shapeless blue cardigan. The cardigan shifted. Until the heap-that-was-Aomine tipped his head to the side, and opened one eye.

“Hey, Kise,” Aomine said. “Shut up. You’re too loud.”

Kise pouted, but notably lowered his voice. Akashi gestured in their direction. As if to say to Midorima, _You see?_ Midorima just rolled his eyes.

Kise let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. He flopped forward, until his head was resting on the table. Now there were two sweater-covered heaps among the silverware, Akashi noted.

“I just really miss Kasamatsu-senpai,” Kise muttered into his placemat. “He yelled a lot, but at least I understood him.”

“Your former captain?” Midorima raised a brow. “I thought you said he was always kicking you. In the face, more often than not.”

Kise peeked up at him through his yellow bangs. He hesitated, then laughed a little. “Well, yeah. But I sort of miss that too.”

There was a slight pause.

“Seriously, Kise?” Aomine stared over at him, from his slumped position on the table. Their faces comically were close together.

“Seriously what?”

“Please. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I knew it from the start,” Midorima said, in between sips of his coffee.

“Knew _what_?”

“Kise-chin liiikes his captainnn,” Murasakibara sang, in a flat voice that Akashi nevertheless recognized as smug.

It was like a firework had gone off. _Bang._ Kise sat straight up, flattening his palms against the table. His golden eyes were even wider than usual.

“What? No! Not like that.”

He glanced around the shop, like he was afraid someone had overhead.

“Psh, don’t bother hiding it,” Aomine said. “I bet everyone here already knows. You said your whole team comes here.”

“Aomine-kun, please be more considerate,” Kuroko chided. He turned to look up at Kise. “And don’t worry, Kise-kun. We won’t talk about it if you want to keep it a secret. But I believe we’ve all become familiar with one another over the years. So your feelings aren’t unexpected.”

Kise gaped at him, making a face like he’d been shot. “K-Kurokocchi… You too…?”

“Honestly, it isn’t like we didn’t already know this about you,” Midorima said. “You’ve told us more than once about your interest in that department.”

“But that’s not—” Kise paused, and his eyes glinted. “Yeah, okay, and would you guys like it if I told everybody here about all the stuff you told me? I remember that night at training camp too, you know.”

Midorima and Aomine both gave a jolt. Well, this only promised to escalate, Akashi thought. In the worst way possible. He replaced his teacup on its saucer, with a soft but audible ‘clink.’

“Kise.” He leveled his gaze at his former teammate. “I’m quite certain that won’t be necessary. Since, as I recall, we all agreed to hold the information we shared that night in the strictest confidence.”

He peered at Kise, without blinking, until the other boy gulped and nodded.

“In any event,” he continued, allowing his expression to soften. “I believe Midorima was attempting to point out that you can confide in us without judgment. And by the same token, we will drop the subject if you wish.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Kise mumbled. “It’s not like I thought you guys would judge me.”

Akashi nodded, as the rest of them shared tentative looks. It was a curious fact, he thought. The six of them didn’t get along with anything resembling ease. Still, they had certain unexpected things in common. Some of those things had obvious causes. For example, they had all endured a certain amount of teasing in elementary school, as a result of their appearance. (Most Japanese children openly stared and even pointed at a blond foreigner… Their reactions to a Japanese child with unusually colored hair and vibrant eyes to match could be easily predicted.)

Other things were less explicable. At a training camp in their second year at Teikou, they had discovered one of those things. But really, Akashi suspected it wasn’t that remarkable. Simply noticing, at one time or another, that another boy was attractive was far from being an earth-shattering revelation. (Or proof of personal inclinations, which, from what Akashi could tell, were still varied in their little group.)

Probably the only remarkable thing was that they had been willing to admit it to each other. Which had more to do with Kise than anything else. He had a way of blurting out secrets that made it feel strangely natural to chime in with one’s own. (And for the more reluctant individuals, he had a way of wheedling, or wearing them down, or simply daring whatever he wanted to know out of them.)

In any case, Akashi felt reasonably comfortable discussing a topic like this with the five of them. (As comfortable as he would ever be, anyway… Certainly more so than with anyone else.) Which was unusual, for his part. He couldn’t help thinking, again, that it was nice to have friends who were out of the ordinary.

“I was being serious, though,” Kise added, after a moment. “It’s not like that. Really. Kasamatsu-senpai is more like, um… I dunno. Never mind.”

He shook his head, looking strangely confused.

“Anyway, he’s my friend,” he said. “And he’s a good person, you know? That’s all.”

“Huh.” Aomine eyed him. “Okay. But I was sure you had a giant boner for the guy.”

“Aomine-kun.” Kuroko clasped his forehead. The subtle tightness in his voice betrayed a growing exasperation.

Kise just narrowed his eyes, as he looked at his longtime rival. “I could make sure you don’t have any more of those, Aominecchi.”

“Oh, feisty today, huh?”

Akashi and Midorima exchanged a look. _Here we go again._

“Could you guys not do your weird flirting thing or whatever,” Murasakibara said. “It’s really annoying.”

Now both Aomine and Kise were glaring. “We do **not** —”

“Might I ask you a question, Kise?” Akashi said, raising his voice a bit. Kise gave a start, and turned toward him. “Would you say the two of you are still close? You and your former captain, that is to say.”

Kise blinked. Just like that, the tension in his face disappeared, like waves shifting into calm water. He smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “We still hang out. I was kinda worried we wouldn’t, since he was studying for exams. But those are over, so… He still stops by practice sometimes, and I’ve been to his house. He wouldn’t let me do it much before, because I never let him get any studying done.”

He laughed, in his sunny way. Akashi couldn’t help thinking that last part sounded odd, and he suspected he wasn’t alone. On the other hand, this was Kise. Akashi knew all too well what it was like to study around him. It was rather like attempting to concentrate while a hyperactive dog pawed at you. A dog in desperate need of a walk.

“He doesn’t really seem like your type, though,” Murasakibara said, through a mouthful of cake. “Even if he’s just your friend or whatever you said before…”

“I agree,” Midorima said, in a rare moment of accord with the purple-haired center. “Haven’t you always said you liked people who let you do as you please?”

Kise cocked his head, and leaned back against the booth. The atmosphere of the conversation had altered, Akashi noted. They were all listening now, waiting for Kise’s response.

“I guess,” he said, slowly. “Maybe that’s just what I _thought_ I wanted. You know?”

Midorima frowned. “Then what do you want, exactly?”

Kise seemed to consider this question for a minute.

“The kind of person who puts up with me,” he said at last. “Like he doesn’t care if I’m weird, or whatever. But he doesn’t put up with my bullshit.”

He flashed one of those twenty-four-karat grins, the kind that said he was all too aware of his faults, and how most people let him off for them because he was good-looking. Then he picked up his long-neglected coffee mug and took a drink.

Akashi raised his brows. He was tempted to point out that those traits were just as desirable in a significant other as a friend. (Perhaps more so, if you were seeking a serious relationship.) Because no matter what Kise claimed, Akashi’s intuition told him his connection with his former captain was something more than simple friendship… But a muffled snort interrupted his train of thought.

Midorima was covering his mouth. The corners of his eyes twitched in an odd way, like he was trying not to smile. They all stared at him. He seemed to take a breath, and his facial features smoothed out. By the time he lowered his hand again, his expression was mostly neutral.

“Excuse me,” he said, once he had regained his composure. “When you put it that way, it just sounded familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Midorima shrugged and looked toward the window. Akashi saw the way his friend’s eyes grew distant then, taking on a softer cast of green behind his lenses.

Strangely enough, he had a feeling he knew what Midorima meant. He couldn’t help recalling how surprised he was to learn that one of his friend's new teammates, the hawk-eyed point guard named Takao, not only tolerated Midorima’s oddest quirks, but even went so far as to drive him around in a rear car on a regular basis. Akashi had also noticed this Takao fellow seemed determined not to let Midorima retreat into his shell, no matter how sharply he was rebuffed for his efforts.

_“The kind of person who puts up with me… But he doesn’t put up with my bullshit.”_

A soft peal broke the silence. Laughter. It was unfamiliar, however, and Akashi took nearly three seconds to identify its source.

Kuroko’s shoulders were shaking, as he laughed outright. Akashi’s mouth slipped open. He had heard Kuroko laugh before. But it was a hushed sound, usually muffled behind a hand or a closed mouth. Even when he laughed openly, Akashi recalled the noise as exceptionally quiet, and somehow muted.

This laughter was clearer. Lighter. Akashi couldn’t help wondering when Kuroko had started to laugh like that. He sensed he wasn’t the only one, as they all sat in silence, listening.

“My apologies,” Kuroko said at last, in his polite way. He drew a breath. “I just realized that it sounded familiar to me too.”

“What?” Aomine gaped at him. “Oh, right. You mean because you have to put up with that idiot Bakagami all the time.”

“No, not at all,” Kuroko said. “I was thinking of how he puts up with me.”

More than one person choked, in response to this assertion. Kise thumped his collarbone, apparently trying to clear his windpipe of more coffee.

“ _You_?” he said, once he had recovered. “But—but—Kurokocchi, you’re the nice one! You don’t do anything that Kagamicchi would have to put up with.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kuroko said. “Kagami-kun is much stronger than me. Not just in a physical sense, but his heart too. It makes him a better person than I am, to be honest. “

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” Akashi said, without really thinking.

He felt the way the others eyed him, and then traded looks with each other. He busied his hands with his teacup. Perhaps he should have kept that particular sentiment to himself.

Kuroko just smiled.

“Well, it’s true,” he said. “I have my moods, and I don’t always say what I’m thinking. And Kagami-kun lets me be that way, up to a point. But he won’t allow me to avoid my problems, or indulge my weaker side out of habit. I still do that sometimes… Mostly when it comes to confronting other people.”

His eyes brightened, until they seemed to glow.

“It’s nice to have someone like that,” he said. “Who understands you, but also knows how to help you be better.”

Akashi blinked, then blinked again. He had never seen that look on Kuroko’s face before. Even so, he knew what it meant—but at the same time, he couldn’t quite believe it. He looked to the others, wondering if they saw it too.

But none of them appeared surprised, or like they were observing Kuroko at all. A few of them nodded. Akashi realized they were all considering what Kuroko had said. Their eyes were distant, yet  glimmered now and then with flashes of recognition. It seemed they understood Kuroko’s meaning. Likely from personal experience. The words echoed again in Akashi’s mind.

_“Who understands you, but also knows how to help you be better.”_

He gazed down into his cup, at the final sip of cloudy tea that remained. Tiny flecks of leaf had settled to the bottom. He felt as though a series of walls had closed in around him, separating him from the others at the table.

The truth was, he wasn’t certain he understood Kuroko’s statement. At least, not in the way the rest of them did. A faint chill spread through his insides. He watched the others in silence.

“Yeah, maybe we all need that, you know?” Kise said, with an oddly subdued laugh.

Midorima gave a wry smile. “What, someone to knock some sense into us?”

The others chuckled.

“I certainly know people who are of that opinion,” he added, but no sooner had he finished speaking than something clattered . The blue cell phone at the other end of the table was buzzing, and blinking on and off.

“Ugh, hang on,” Aomine muttered. He glanced at it before flipping it open. “Hey, Satsuki. What do you want?”

The others shared a look. Now there was someone who spent a great deal of time knocking sense into one of them—more specifically, the person she had just phoned. Aomine looked as bored as always, and his replies to Momoi were little more than grunts. Still, he seemed to know it was in his best interests to take her calls.

Soon they were all checking their phones. Akashi noticed a few of them texting. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, just to check the time.

“Well, I have to go, I guess,” Murasakibara said, rather suddenly for him. “Muro-chin is waiting on me or something.”

“Waiting on you?” Akashi repeated. He was a bit surprised that Murasakibara seemed to consider this a pressing development.

“Yeah, he’s done with stuff, and he went to the convenience store.” Murasakibara got up from the booth and started putting on his jacket.  “They had some snacks I wanted, so he bought them already.”

“Ah.” Now Akashi better grasped the situation. “Well, that is vital. Snack food, that is.”

“He just ate an _entire cake_ ,” Midorima muttered, evidently to the universe at large.

“Wait, Himuro came down from Akita with you?” Kise said to Murasakibara. He was standing up as well. “That’s a super long train ride, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Kuro-chin knew about it too… Right?”

Kuroko smiled as he put on his jacket. “Yes, I did. Himuro-san decided to visit Kagami-kun today.”

“Oh, right.” Kise nodded, as though this explained everything. Akashi wasn’t certain that it did, though, even considering the fact that Murasakibara (and Himuro, it seemed) had made the aforementioned trip the night before. It didn’t explain the way Murasakibara left the coffee shop after he said goodbye, at a pace slightly faster than his usual lumbering gait.

Well, Akashi told himself, it could be the snacks. Maybe.

The others were saying their goodbyes as well. So Akashi gathered up his things and joined them. Kise insisted on hugging them all, for whatever reason—he had those oddly affectionate moods sometimes—and Akashi was watching with considerable humor as Midorima struggled to dodge his reaching arms. Then he noticed, with a slight jolt, that Kuroko was standing right beside him. (Some things never changed.)

“I’m glad you were able to come today,” Kuroko said, with his usual politeness.

“Yes,” Akashi said. “I feel the same.”

Kuroko gazed at him. He was frowning, Akashi realized. “Are you all right, Akashi-kun?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m quite well.”

It wasn’t a lie. His health was impeccable.

Kuroko continued to stare at him, for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Are you going to walk to the station?”

“Yes, my train leaves soon. Though I planned on using the restroom first.” He tipped his head toward the back of the shop. “I suppose I’ll see you again in a month. If not sooner.”

“Yes, I will see you then.” Kuroko hesitated. He took Akashi’s hand, and gave it a light squeeze. Warmth trailed across Akashi’s palm, and up his arm. “And I’ll call you in the meantime, if you don’t mind. I know you must be very busy.”

“Certainly you may.” Akashi blinked at him. “If you wish.”

“Thank you. And please take care of yourself,” Kuroko added, giving Akashi’s hand another squeeze, before he let go and joined a bickering Aomine and Kise on their way out the door.

Akashi stood still, watching as they all left. He felt a twinge beside his heart, a tender ache that was almost pleasant. It seemed  Kuroko had noticed something was troubling him. Perhaps Akashi should have expected it (especially after a certain conversation that had taken place between them, two months ago). But somehow, Kuroko still had a way of surprising him, even after years of friendship.

Akashi left the coffee shop a few minutes later. He tucked his hands in his pockets, as he walked along toward the train station. The early spring breeze carried a fragile chill. He passed a park bordered with cherry trees. The buds on their branches were still tightly closed, but it would only be a matter of weeks before they would bloom.

_“I wish to die in spring_

_Under cherry blossoms…”_

It was curious, Akashi thought, how the present time of year was so intertwined with death and rebirth. He welcomed the changing weather, for the most part. It had been three years since he had actually seen spring. With his own eyes, and not through the eyes of his other self.

Yet somehow, the growing warmth in the air also reminded him of the way his old teammates were changing. Like cherry trees starting to bud, after a long and bare-branched winter. It troubled him. Not because he disapproved, by any means—but because he couldn’t help knowing how little he had altered in comparison.

He had been tempted to ask Kuroko, about some of the things he had said back in the coffee shop. About Kagami, and how their partnership made him a better person. But when it came down to it, Akashi didn’t need to ask to understand. He had seen this sort of thing before. He recalled Kuroko’s words. The look on his face, the downy glow in his eyes as he spoke…

Akashi already knew what it meant.

Kuroko was falling in love.

He wasn’t simply attracted to Kagami, or infatuated. No, Kuroko was genuinely falling for his new partner. The kind of feeling that came from whole-hearted trust and appreciation. Which meant that Kuroko would be the first of any of them, in the Generation of Miracles, to feel that level of emotion for another person.

It seemed unexpected, on the surface. But somehow it didn’t surprise Akashi. He wasn’t certain if Kuroko was aware of it yet, and he didn’t know where things stood on Kagami’s end. The two of them had known each other for less than a year. But if Akashi had to guess where this was going, if he considered what they had endured and the times he’d seen them together, and used his intuition to its fullest extent…

He was a bit astonished to discover that he wouldn’t be shocked at all, if they chose to remain together for the rest of their lives.

Akashi shook his head. Now there was an odd thought, for many reasons. Kuroko was only sixteen, and this would be his first serious relationship. Assuming it progressed that far. Well, nothing was set in stone. Still, if it did happen… Akashi would be forced to admit that he saw it coming.

He wasn’t as certain about the rest of his former teammates. They all had new companions, though, and were remarkably close with some of them. Akashi already suspected a few of those connections could become something more.

Chief among those was his longtime friend Midorima’s new partnership. The way he had gazed through the window kept coming back to Akashi, over and over…

The image left him cold, somehow. Not because he begrudged his friend happiness. Very much the opposite. But he had always thought of Midorima as being a great deal like him: restrained, focused, and largely concerned with personal ambitions. So it begged the question… If a person like Midorima did turn out to have feelings for someone, then shouldn’t Akashi be capable of such a thing too?

He gazed into the distance, thinking, until the buildings and people around him blurred into a nondescript rainbow.

It wasn’t as though Akashi had never felt any interest or affection for another person. He recalled the deep admiration he felt for his former captain, Nijimura. At one time, he had even wondered if it was something more—but his senpai had always kept a certain distance between them. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, either. (Or rather, Nijimura and his other self hadn’t.)

His chest tightened at the memory. He often thought about contacting his senpai again. He still hoped they would reconcile, but at the same time, he had long sensed that Nijimura had some motive for keeping him at a distance. Perhaps he didn’t share Akashi’s interest, or he didn’t want them to be closer, for whatever reason.

And there were other people who interested Akashi… But those relationships were more complicated still. His other self had been fascinated by Mayuzumi, for instance. But for his part, Akashi couldn’t identify the nature of that interest. It had seemed so calculated, a means to an end—but then again, Akashi wondered what a crush on his little brother’s part would even _look_ like.

In any event, he felt badly enough about the whole situation that he fully intended to heed his senpai’s request to leave him alone.

And then there was Kuroko. And that…

Well, Akashi didn’t have the slightest idea what _that_ was.

He drew a tense breath. He had felt drawn to Kuroko from the start. Irresistibly so. He had never believed so wholeheartedly in another person. For him, Kuroko was like a whispered prayer. Something sacred. Perhaps that was only natural… Kuroko had all but rescued him from himself at the Winter Cup, after all.

It didn’t matter, though. It was as obvious as the sun in a noonday sky, to whom Kuroko’s heart belonged at this point. Besides, Akashi suspected his feelings for Kuroko were different than passion. Just as strong, just as indispensible… But Kuroko wasn’t meant for him, not in the way he might be meant for Kagami.

And Akashi was content with that.

So in the end, he decided, he had never felt that way before. About anyone.

He had certainly never felt the lust some of his friends alluded to. The way Aomine would smirk now and then, when he talked about ogling some random individual’s backside. Or the way Kise always grinned and eagerly chimed in.

(Admittedly, they were most often discussing two different types of backsides. But not always… Akashi didn’t understand that either. Were they just humoring one another’s preferences, or were there certain things they both liked? And what were those things?)

For his part, Akashi didn’t grasp the appeal or the importance, of any of it. He understood dirty jokes on a cerebral level, but not an instinctual one. He didn’t understand the sparkling fascination that clearly surrounded the whole topic.

It hadn’t troubled him in middle school. He had been so young, and besides, he was focused on his goals and achievements. There would be time for such things later.

And he was still young now, he reminded himself. There was still plenty of time.

Even so, he couldn’t help noticing the way most people around him were acting differently than he was. They were all discovering that part of themselves. So he was starting to feel a bit like an alien. He knew the jokes his friends would make, if he shared these particular thoughts… They would laugh and say it was just like him to not have feelings like that, because he was too self-sufficient, and uptight besides. And after all, who could picture a winning machine like Akashi Seijuurou falling head over heels for someone, anyway?

The trouble was, Akashi was starting to believe that. Maybe he was just too self-controlled to ever let himself feel such things. Too focused on winning. A machine.

He tried to convince himself the affection he already felt for others, those feelings of kinship and sympathy, counted just as much. It was difficult, though, when everyone else in the world spoke about true love and soulmates.

Sometimes Akashi almost felt like a monster… Incapable of the deepest feelings a human could have.

This was not something he had ever thought, until his second year at Teikou. Until he allowed his other self to take control, and saw how quickly those around him succumbed to fear and dread. He understood then how much he had already intimidated others—even those he loved. Akashi had always thought of himself as caring, though admittedly rather closed off. Ever since that unfortunate year, he wondered if he had been wrong. If he had given himself too much credit.

Perhaps he was, quite simply, unfeeling. Unapproachable. A frightening, cold person. Certainly his other self could be that way, at times. Maybe he was no different.

Maybe he would never fall in love. He would merely choose a suitable wife, after a tedious series of prospective marriage meetings. Like his father. (Though even his father had loved his mother, with considerable passion. Akashi knew this for a fact.) There would be no emotion involved. Only expectations being met, or exceeded. Like many aspects of his life.

He knew what his other self would say about these concerns. What, exactly, was wrong with that? What was wrong with simply choosing the most acceptable and accomplished candidate for a life partner, without any pesky emotions to get in the way? (Akashi wasn’t entirely sold on the idea that his little brother was incapable of such feelings… But if that were true, his other self would be the last to know. He tended to be oblivious about certain things.)

Akashi sighed. Well, perhaps there was nothing wrong with it. Somehow, though, it troubled him anyway.

He lingered on his way to the station. His train wouldn’t leave for another hour, and he was reluctant to spend that time waiting on the platform. As he passed an antique shop, a display in the window caught his eye. It included a collection of bone china teapots, along with matching cups and saucers. Akashi paused to inspect them. His mother had collected such pieces, and he still added to her collection sometimes, whenever he found ones she would have liked.

He had just concluded that these items were too similar to some he already owned, when the door to the shop swung open. A young man stumbled out, with his arms so full of various antiques that Akashi couldn’t quite see his face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Don’t be such a nag.” The young man also had a phone balanced beneath his ear, or so it seemed. His voice was oddly familiar. “You’re the one who said it had to be green. Which is stupid, by the way, because you’ve never worried about the color part of it before. I swear you’re getting more neurotic by the hour. Anyhoo, I know you must be pining for me by now, so—shit.”

One of the items in his arms had shifted. Akashi could see the way the young man fumbled with it, trying to improve his grip… The object slipped free and hurtled toward the ground. Akashi snatched it up, before it could smash into the pavement. It was a statue of a koi fish, painted green.

“Oh jeez, thanks! Uh, hang on a sec.” The young man pocketed his phone. He shoved a few of the antiques inside his coat, and in the messenger bag at his side. Akashi had the distinct impression he was accustomed to handling so many objects. He turned, and Akashi recognized the face of none other than Takao Kazunari, Shuutoku’s point guard.

“Man, you seriously saved my hide, like you don’t even kno—” Takao stopped point blank and gaped at Akashi. “Uh… wow. Err…. Hey?”

“Good afternoon.” Akashi frowned, uncertain how he ought to address Takao now. He was tempted to be formal, given the situation. He had never officially met Takao, but his other self had, and that was… regrettable. Perhaps he could use his form of address to communicate that. “How are you, Takao-san?”

“Oh, I… Wait, Takao- _san_?” Takao made an odd face, like he desperately wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare. “Whoa, whoa. Just Takao is fine. I’m not planning on calling you Akashi-san. No offense.”

“Very well, if you say so.” Akashi glanced down at the statue in his hands. “This is for Midorima, I presume?”

This time, Takao did laugh, a cheery sort of chuckle. “Yup. The usual lucky bullshit. Guess you’d know all about it. Or was he less nutty in middle school?”

Akashi cocked an eyebrow. He was strongly tempted to smile. Oddly enough.

“Out of respect for my former vice captain, I’m afraid I must decline to answer that,” was all he said.

Takao laughed again. “Yeah, that’s smart. So I guess all you rainbow dorks—err, I mean, you guys are done with coffee?”

“We are.” Akashi couldn’t resist giving Takao a look, as he handed the statue back. Now here was someone who clearly had a habit of putting his foot in his mouth. Akashi had guessed as much before, but he hadn’t realized the full extent of it. The thought of someone like Midorima putting up with this sort of thing every day was downright fascinating.

All the more so, when he thought back to their recent conversation at the coffee shop… He recalled Midorima’s face, and that curious softness in his expression, which he had never seen before.

“Yeah, I figured. No wonder Shin-chan called.” Takao grinned. Akashi couldn’t help noticing the way his eyes turned up at the corners when he said the nickname, and glittered as they took in more light. “He’s so clingy. I leave him alone for two seconds and he starts whimpering like a lost dog. _‘Wahhh Takao where are you, wahhh you’re always keeping me waiting.’_ So obnoxious.”

His grin was positively impish now. Akashi could tell he didn’t mean a word of it.

“Anyway, guess I should go bring him his magical stuff,” he added. “Otherwise the world might end. Or he’ll get hit by a bus. Then I’d have no one to cart around all day. Such a tragedy.”

Akashi hesitated. Suddenly, he felt a bizarre urge to ask Takao about his feelings toward Midorima. To ask what he thought they were, and to inquire how he had managed to become close to a private person like Midorima in the first place… But that would have been inappropriate.

There was something else he wanted to know, however.

“Might I ask you an odd question?” he said.

Takao blinked. “Sure? If you want.”

Akashi gazed at the items he was holding, thoughtfully. “Does it bother you?”

“What, trolling antique shops to help Shin-chan’s stars align? I mean, sure, it’s a pain in the ass—”

“Not exactly.” Akashi cleared his throat. “I meant, does it bother you being regarded as Midorima’s partner? I realize you think of him as a friend. But you’re extremely talented in your own right. And it seems to me your abilities tend to be discussed primarily in terms of how they support his, instead of on their own merits. Whereas for my part, I am very much aware of your skill.”

He said this last part with particular sincerity. Few people grasped the intricacies of playing in the point guard position. But Akashi did, and he also knew how frequently those skills were underestimated. He had played as point guard of the Generation of Miracles, after all, and as the starting point guard for Rakuzan. Even so, he was still accustomed to hearing things like, ‘His skills don’t seem all that amazing.’

Which was why he knew just how talented Takao was. They had similar abilities, in many ways. Finely tuned passing, and exceptional vision.

Speaking of vision, Akashi couldn’t help but notice the way Takao goggled at him, once he finished his explanation. He felt a slight twinge of discomfort. He hoped Takao didn’t find the question insulting. (Perhaps he occasionally said a bit too much himself.)

“Uh. Wow,” Takao finally said. “You really are a diff—err, never mind. Um, yeah. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Akashi said. “Though I merely stated the truth.”

“Right. Well…” Takao paused, as though he was still processing Akashi’s question. His lips twitched into a smirk. “Pfft, you’re talking about the whole ‘shadow and light’ thing, aren’t you? Nah, doesn’t bother me.”

Akashi couldn’t resist giving him a skeptical frown. Takao just shrugged.

“I know I’m not on his level,” he said. “Who is? Other than the rest of you. I mean, of course people are going to pay more attention to him. I don’t care. I just want to be good enough that other players acknowledge me… Even ones like him.” He smiled. “Which, you know, mission accomplished. Twice, I guess? So thanks for that.”

Akashi nodded politely. He was still curious, as to how exactly Takao had earned Midorima’s respect. But as he thought back to the match his other self had played against Shuutoku, he realized he already had a rough idea as to the answer.

“Besides, it’s way more fun to harass him about it,” Takao added, snickering. “The whole thing is hysterical. It’s like, he hates all the attention, except he actually loves it? Hilarious. I swear, if you look up the word ‘tsundere’ there should just be a picture of his face.”

He cackled. Akashi didn’t quite follow the joke. Before he could ask, Takao leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

“And just between you and me, he’s every bit as freakishly amazing as you are. But he can never find out. He’s got a big enough head as it is… I mean it’s like, he’d never be able to wear hats. And god knows I’m looking forward to _that_ twist on his crappy disguises.”

He laughed again. Then, to Akashi’s surprise, he actually winked.

“Plus he might think I like him or something,” he said, in a fake sort of whisper.

He grinned from ear to ear, so brightly Akashi was reminded of a sunbeam. “See ya later,” he said, and with a wave he headed down the street. A high-pitched sound drifted through the air, and Akashi realized with ever-increasing amusement that the other boy was whistling as he walked, with his arms and pockets and bag still full of miscellaneous antiques.

Well, Akashi couldn’t help thinking. It was fairly obvious what _that_ was about.

Now he understood why he had sensed something behind Midorima’s gaze in the coffee shop. There was something between those two, without a doubt… It would be interesting, to see how their relationship developed in the coming months. It promised to be unique, if nothing else. Akashi smiled a bit, and continued on his way.

His steps were light, as he left the shop behind. As he drew near to the station, however, his pace began to drag again. He furrowed his brows.

This, after all, was why he had been troubled before. Because for his part, he didn’t have anyone like that. Someone who knew about his most peculiar quirks, and felt comfortable enough to joke about them. Or who understood the parts about himself he tried to hide, or knew all the little things, like what he might want to purchase at an antique shop.

But that was his own fault, he told himself. He still had Midorima, who knew him very well, despite how reserved he could be. And Kuroko, and his other friends and teammates. Really, this melancholy mood of his was ridiculous. He ought to be more grateful.

They had all been fortunate over this past year. It was an extraordinary thing, to find people who accepted you. Who understood your gifts, and valued them. And who were secure enough to support and care for you, no matter how much brighter your light happened to shine (or how difficult it might be to see your shadow).

Still, Akashi wondered what it would be like, to find someone who understood him so well that they knew all his needs. Better, even, than he knew himself. Someone who continually broke through his barriers, and sought out his company, over and over again.

Someone who was _for_ him. In every sense of the word.

A person to make him better, while loving him for exactly who he was.

It seemed unlikely, for one simple reason. Not because Akashi thought of himself as flawless, far from it—but because so few people saw his flaws for what they really were. Most of his acquaintances either put him on a pedestal, or misunderstood him completely. And the ones that didn’t were largely unwilling to call him on his shortcomings. They assumed their advice would be unwelcome. Akashi did little to discourage this impression.

On the contrary, he found it difficult to imagine becoming so intimate with another person, that this individual would not only know his weaknesses, but discuss them. Such a relationship was incompatible with his restrictive upbringing. And it was far outside his comfort zone. He wasn’t one to let someone in like that.

Still, he wondered what it would be like.

Akashi peered up at the clear sky. It reminded him of his first day at Teikou. Well, anything was possible, he supposed. He hadn’t anticipated any of the events that had taken place over the past year. Perhaps that sort of relationship wasn’t unthinkable, even for him. But he suspected he would have a long time to wait for this particular miracle to occur.

Well, there was still time. Until then, he was well acquainted with the walls that surrounded his private life. They were familiar, even if he had grown tired of them.

Akashi made his way through a ticket gate, his mind crowded with thoughts of his friends, and the future. The train station hummed around him, as travelers hurried through the passageways. He knew none of them, and none of them knew him. He ascended the stairs to one of the platforms, with the intention of boarding his train.

Every step brought him closer to the miracle he sought. Though he wouldn’t recognize it for what it was, not until many months later.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! For those who may be interested, I should probably mention that while I wanted this particular fic to be open-ended (so you can read any Akashi ships you want into it), the ending does lead into the first scene of my upcoming fic, “The Fast Train to Kyoto.” (An AkaFuri friendship-that-will-eventually-be-more story.) I'll update this note with a link once it's posted.


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